1969

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

1969, the year I was born, just before the reality check of the 1970's in the UK.

A decade I would wish to forget along with most of my previous years. The reason is I spent a lot of my childhood and a good part of my early adulthood in and out of hospitals and doctors clinics. Without on the whole any reason why until I came to access my notes in 2007.

This poem deals with this and the pain I was caused and the very real pain I still feel when I think about it.

 

1969

Born in 1969 just after man walked on the moon

3 years after England won the world cup

Something they still go on about even now........

 

Autumn 1969 the last gasp of the swinging '60's

The last Xmas of the decade was to be my first

The day before the beatles released Abbey Road

 

Born in 1969, a long hospital stay

A vision of times to come

A sickly child, don't expect him to live

 

Crawling into the 70's

Depression and strikes

the 3 day week

 

Through the awful 70's

Hospitals and doctors

Tubes and Humiliation

 

Medical decade kill or cure

Or was I just a test subject ?

Try a new treatment as he does not respond

 

Late 70's passing now

A voice to speak

A silence to swallow

 

Into the 80's almost a teen

Still they come, still they test me

Still they talk as if I am not in the room

 

Still Mother you take me

Still Mother you diagnose me

Still Mother you sign the consent forms

 

Still Mother you blame me

Still Mother you say I am sick

Still Mother you do not hold me

 

Still Mother you talk to the doctors

Still Mother you say "The boys not right"

Still Mother you say "Is there anything to be done ?"

 

The 90's are here now

Into my twenties almost a man

Now addicted now a mess

 

The 90's are a blur

My anger a physical thing

My body no longer mine

 

Still the doctors come

Still they talk to you

Still they try and cure me

 

Still they shake their heads

Still they take my blood

Still they strip me naked

 

A century is finished now

As I am moved away

Freedom is calling

 

A doctor is reading my notes

This time at my request

Again he shakes his head

 

Again he questions me

"why was this test done ?"

Again I do not know the answer

 

The doctor is reading my notes

The doctor is dismissing it all

The doctor is concerned for me

 

The doctor does not believe

The doctor can not see why

The doctor cannot understand

 

Why did you do this Mother ?

Why did you do this to me ?

Why did you hurt me ?

 

Why did you tell them all those lies ?

Why did you make me sick ?

Why did you not just love me ?

 

Mother why ?

Mother why ?

Mother why ?

MOTHER WHY ?

Boneman 2007


Submitted: September 23, 2007

© Copyright 2021 boneman. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:

Comments

mum55

Boneman having only just read this what a past what a mother hope your life is happy at last Juliet

Mon, December 31st, 2007 12:20am

Author
Reply

Many thanks for your kind words. My past is very upsetting at times and I am only now managing to deal with a lot of distressing memories. I find writing about them helps me to come to terms with what happened to me.

Quite often it is distressing to write, but if one person reads it and realises there is help out there for them then it is worth it.

Peace

Boneman

Sun, December 30th, 2007 4:59pm

Lacey Cummings

Here in the US you have to have a license for everything - maybe they should have training before having children too. It seems a shame that people just have these precious beings and treat them so badly. On a lighter note it sounds like our birthdays are pretty close together. What are you - September 25? I'm an October baby, same year. Sorry to ramble - Very well-written poem. :)

Thu, March 20th, 2008 9:58pm

Author
Reply

Thank you Lacey (really gonna have to think of something else to type lol) For your kind comments.

I think that a child is the most precious thing you could have never mind a license to drive / fly / own a gun. Its far more dangerous to have a child in the care of someone who is unfit to have one but sadly it happens all too often.

Think it was a line in Dallas "You are a drunk a tramp and an unfit mother" :)

Yes my birthday is September 25th every year funnily enough.

Anyway Im rambling now

Peace

Boneman x

Thu, March 20th, 2008 3:27pm

Madame Dupree

The title of this poem drew me. I was born the same year – in December. Speaking from experience, I understand about the pain and asking your mother WHY she could have been so cruel. Then sadly I watch my sister reacting the same way with my niece and nephew and I’m helpless to do anything about it! Child Services only investigates but won’t intervene!! May God forgive me but I use to pray that my sister wouldn’t be able to have children because I knew how she’d be. But you know what? That joke is on me, because I was the one that couldn’t have the children when it was the one thing I had always longed for!!

Fri, April 25th, 2008 7:23pm

Author
Reply

Thank you for your comment.

I havent got as far as asking questions and probably never will as I dont think I want to know the answers. I know God will forgive your prayers as you were trying to protect a child.

I also long for children, I am aware of the abuse handed out to me and want a child I can give the love I didnt recieve.

Peace and God keep you

Boneman

Fri, April 25th, 2008 1:56pm

Pratibha

i tried not to hate her but as a woman could not see any reason of her deeds...
A tiny soul dependant on a mother is treated like an object...I am sure GOD loves the child and HE protected and guided the baby.

And I am sure after writing this poem ( which blurred my vision with tears), you must be feeling better.

Sat, August 2nd, 2008 6:07am

Author
Reply

Thank you.

Feeling better will take a lot more time.

Some wounds never heal.

Peace

Boneman

Sun, August 3rd, 2008 2:56pm

SLJONES

this was such a great poem sj

Mon, July 20th, 2009 9:47pm

Author
Reply

Thank you for your kind words.

Peace

Boneman

Tue, July 21st, 2009 5:13pm

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